


Shoreline

by carofnerds



Series: Ocean Tides [3]
Category: Not-Movie-Verse, Thunderbirds
Genre: Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carofnerds/pseuds/carofnerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sea breeze blows in from an open window somewhere to his left, tangling itself in his ginger curls. He inhales, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly comes to consciousness, and the taste of ozone and salt fills his throat and lungs. The intense white light of daytime pours onto his face, his bare skin, and his white linen sheets. Gordon sighs.</p><p>He’s alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoreline

The sea breeze blows in from an open window somewhere to his left, tangling itself in his ginger curls. He inhales, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly comes to consciousness, and the taste of ozone and salt fills his throat and lungs. The intense white light of daytime pours onto his face, his bare skin, and his white linen sheets. Gordon sighs.

He’s alive.

It takes Gordon a good few moments to realise that there’s another weight on the side of his bed. He stretches, but the sheets won’t budge as he moves, and he tugs hard to try and get free. There’s a groan, and Gordon looks to his right.

Scott is sleeping, half in a chair and half slumped forward on Gordon’s bed. He’s barely making any noise, just snuffling into the duvet, which is unusual as all the Tracy brothers know that Scott snores. Not loudly, but just enough that it surprises Gordon when he realises how little noise his brother is making now.

Gordon slips out of bed, leaving Scott to sleep peacefully while he showers. The hot water pelts against his bare skin, and the sensation calms him. The memory of… god he didn’t even know how long ago it was; Scott wasn’t wearing the clothes he wore when he appeared at the window of Thunderbird Four, when he’d cradled Gordon in his arms as the sea swamped them. Gordon gasped, turning the heat up in the shower. He’d been so ready to die down there, so prepared. It seemed a natural end.

He remembered jokingly telling Scott one evening how when he died he wanted a sea burial.

Now that he thinks about it, he still wants one. Funny how that still hasn’t changed, even after his near-death experience.

Gordon turns off the water, dries himself off, and smiles.

-

His father debriefs him with a tight embrace, and punches Scott on the shoulder. Gordon suspects that Scott’s already spoken with Jeff; it turns out that his post-near-death coma had lasted two whole days.

Scott had spent the entire time by Gordon’s bedside.

It’s six in the evening when Gordon walks barefoot along the beach, the warm sand spilling between his toes. The cooling air envelops him as he pulls off his t-shirt and jeans. The hiss and slap of the waves hitting the beach fills his ears, his mind, as he steps into the chilled water.

He doesn’t know how long he walks for, the water creeping up his limbs until it reaches his neck. Then he finally becomes one with the water, pushing forward in long strokes through the water, his home. He barely comes up for air, but this time it’s more comfortable, more controlled. The water is his world, it’s beautiful and it’s dangerous and it’s his.

He’d honestly resigned himself to die there.

And then Scott saved him.

It was typical Scott really. Always putting his brothers before his own safety, and always putting Gordon before everything but International Rescue. Even Thunderbird One; Virgil told him they’d had to pull her out of the ocean, that Scott would have to do some serious repairs before she’d be anywhere near flight standard. Scott loves his craft more than anything…

Well, apparently not.

When he rises from the waves this time, he sees Scott standing on the beach in his jeans, no shirt. The orange glow of the sunset highlights his tanned skin perfectly, his dark hair floating in the soft breeze. Gordon swims toward the shoreline, toward Scott, like he’s his anchor to the world above sea level. Like he can’t surface without Scott.

“You must be crazy. I pull you out of the ocean, only for you to dive right back in,” Scott says, incredulous, when Gordon reaches him.

“A smooth sea never did make a skilful sailor,” Gordon replies, grinning, and levelling with his older brother.

Scott smiles softly and runs a hand along Gordon’s bicep. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, you know that?”

“FAB.”

“I mean it,” Scott says, staring determinedly up at Gordon. “And by the way, you’re the one who’s gonna repair One with me.”

“Excuse me?” Gordon laughs, winding his arms around Scott’s waist. “I have my own craft to be rebuilding, thank you very much.”

“Maybe we should make One and Four a joint project,” Scott purrs, and he kisses Gordon, soft and wet. Inviting.

Gordon kisses back of course, pushing his brother’s shirt up over his head, skimming his thumbs over Scott’s well muscled torso. Scott mouths at Gordon’s neck, his tongue lapping up the sea water droplets and sucking on the swimmer’s pulse. He pulls his brother down and pins him, their bodies tangling in the sand. Gordon moans shamelessly as Scott bites his toned shoulders, laps at his nipples, slides a hand southward-

“God, Nemo, you’re so noisy,” Scott hisses, his eyes dark from under his lashes as pulls his jeans off.

“It’s a talent,” Gordon laughs. “I can also talk to whales.”

“Bullshit.”

Gordon gasps again as Scott’s hand slides over his cock, warm and dry compared to the cold, wet fabric of his boxers. “Jesus Christ, Scott!”

Scott chuckles, and slides up his brother’s body and creating wonderful friction between them. He can feel Gordon trembling beneath him with anticipation. He pulls Gordon’s boxers down and off, and licks slowly up the length of his brother’s thigh. He nuzzles Gordon’s dick, then grasps his hips and pulls them up, swiping his tongue past Gordon’s balls and into his hole. Gordon’s body hums with pleasure as Scott pushes his tongue deeper, stretching and slicking him. Scott works a finger in next to his tongue, and then a second, and then he strokes Gordon’s prostate and Gordon’s begging him to just fuck him already.

“Patience, fish-stick, patience,” Scott sings, before he spits on his hand and starts to slick up his own cock. He’s already aching; the head of his dick dripping with precome, and Gordon looks much the same with his legs splayed out and his hips raised.

“Please,” Gordon sobs, his body shaking as Scott’s cock touches him, “Please just fuck me.”

And with that Scott pushes in, slowly and carefully, caressing Gordon’s sides as he fills the younger brother. Heat coils in Gordon’s gut and he keens, trying desperately not to push back to quickly.

“You ready?” Scott whispers huskily into Gordon’s ear.

“Yeah.”

And then Scott thrusts and Gordon is lost. It’s like he’s been swept up by the waves again, except it’s Scott’s warmth and Scott’s tongue and Scott. Scott is his world, his everything. The thrusting becomes more erratic, Gordon can see stars, and he’s close, so so close-

An “I love you” is said, and neither is sure which of them said it.

They come hard and together, like yin and yang. Land and sea. They meet at the shoreline and come together as one.


End file.
